


kindle

by noseforsatu (berryargento)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Past recap, Retrospective, Spoilers for anyone who is not playing yet?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22803241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berryargento/pseuds/noseforsatu
Summary: She never know what kind of fire that's stayed within her of all the years she left behind and for the years to come.
Relationships: Constance von Nuvelle/Mercedes von Martritz
Kudos: 19





	kindle

**Author's Note:**

> Constance's "Onee-sama" changed my life tbh.  
> Oh, beware of grammatical errors and spoilers.

**i.**

If she could go back to days when she is feeling utmost happiness, it is when Count Nuvelle hold a visit to House Bartels during her childhood.

When listening to her parents, they would press on the point of how the leader of said House wanted their children to bear a Crest, just like most of Nobles anywhere—well, _desperate_ even, to note. They said, the two children from the new Madam of Bartels said to bear a Crest, a reason why House Bartels was ecstatic for the visit from the gentry Count from time-to-time, so to simply mention them in each of every bits of conversation much to the little girl’s boredom.

Then again, it wasn’t of the Crest or statuses that makes Constance enjoyed their company.

At first, Constance thought the garden in her house is great, but then the House Bartels has a greater, better garden that always blooming with flowers of respective seasons. Unlike her array of servants whom tended her needs, the garden was flourishing because of how Madam Bartels took care of it along with her two kids.

The two children might seem like an outcast to the already big numbers of Bartels family, but Constance liked to spend time with them more rather than others.

The older, Mercedes von Bartels, will always bake cookies every time Constance paid a visit there – as if she already knew when Constance might come by. She would always read to her, or play with her until it is time for her to go home.

The younger, Emile von Bartels, might be a silent, aloof boy at first, but it would be different once he approached kittens or whether he enjoyed sweets that Mercedes or Madam Bartels made.

The three of them would spend time reading, or walking around the area, or talking away at their lush garden. Sometimes, Emile would pluck roses for her, or suddenly talk about the brown kittens they found by the garden from a week ago. Meanwhile, Mercedes is twice her age (maybe, she never asked, but she knows that Mercedes is so mature) and it is as though Constance has found an older sister she has lost to.

Constance has an older brother, but Mercedes is pale in comparison to say with her blood sibling. Perhaps it is due to Mercedes being an older ‘sister’ instead of ‘brother’, but everything just feel so _new_ to her.

Initially, Constance shied out of the presence of Emile and Mercedes—cakes and cats and gardens might be the one reason that really brought them together. Ever since then, Constance would follow her father to his visiting duty - and Constance would request to stay in Bartels longer for each passing week.

“Onee-sama!” Constance would follow Mercedes to the kitchen, in which the older girl would reply her call with a pat on head. “What will you make today? Can I help?”

“I was thinking of making cakes. Can you call Emile here to help with the plating?”

“Sure, but it got to be the two of us to make the cake, okay?”

“Fufu, so Constance wanted to have me all for herself today?” Mercedes said, it was something Constance couldn’t grasp by then, but she faintly remembered it up until now. The older girl gave her a hug, it was really, really warm.

“I want to be together with you, Onee-sama!”

“Ara,” her words tinged with a surprise. “How bold.”

“Bold?”

At that, Mercedes lifted her up and bumped their noses together. “You will understand later when you’re growing up, dear Constance.”

**ii.**

The news of Mercedes leaving Bartels home arrived to her ears almost instantly. It started as a gossip from her attendants, though her parents didn’t know what made Mercedes and her mother walked away from the Bartels home. Constance was torn, her last visit there went per usual with happy tones and warm teas. Neither Mercedes nor Emile speak of the possibility of their departures. Neither of them hinted of any gloom future they had planned in store.

When Constance arrived at Bartels house that day to demand of answers, the garden was no longer pretty. Overgrown vines are everywhere unattended by the fence. Roses were wilting. The bushes no longer green and lush. The house is no longer lively.

Even Emile won’t spare his rare, small smile anymore - and he didn’t say anything, no matter how much Constance yelled at him.

Her brother said, ‘it is also usual for a noble family to go with such hard time’, but Constance couldn’t yield on it.

Her long-cherished older sister is gone, her questions went to cold and unanswered, and now her life is painted with gray.

**iii.**

Emile is no longer answering when she is coming to House Bartels, let alone responding to her letters.

Then, as she is about to give herself another visit, the ever-known House Bartels already long gone—they were all dead by the hands of none other but Emile von Bartels.

**iv.**

She couldn’t remember the last time sunlight wasn’t so harsh on her.

Her memory of growing up while running below the sun in the land of empire was never enough to ward away the memories of fire.

Of how her house burned down by the combined armies of Dagda and Brigid.

Of how other high-standing Nobles didn’t care of them; sacrificed them even, as House Nuvelle voted for the Empire leaders instead of the Seven Other Houses. Partially, it was due to their House fault to stay closed aside of the votes - political world has always been so ruthless, unforgiving.

Of how her father yelled for Constance to go, to keep the Nuvelle secret with her until her death.

Of how her older brother pushed her away from the coming fire arrows.

Of how Nuvelle land, the ever-flourishing port lands, decreased to an ash heap for mere days of breaking war.

The fire. The fire. _The fire_ _._ Constance paused midway on casting as she saw the flame alight on her palm by her own invocation of magic. She grasped the fire, letting it fade out before she tried to look up toward the scant of branches that failed to shield her from the might of the sunny daytime.

She never hated fire, nor having a particular trauma about fire, she handled fire well – but the sun is different story.

She was currently alone by the grounds of Fhirdiad School of Sorcery. Her short, curled hair followed the wind as it blows, and it made her eyes searching to the deserted grounds.

While someone might bother to talk to her when she is on the shade, everyone will avoid her like plague when she is out in the open. She won’t deny of how boring she is as everything she would talk about is about the advancement of magic. She won’t deny of how unbearable she is to speak of the revival of her fallen House. She won’t deny of how negative she is when she was exposed to the presence of sun.

The people who’s wholly accepted her is no longer there, _no longer anywhere_.

Soon, she would graduate and got no place to go. There was not much of a place that will accept a young sprout who barely in a stepping stone of adulthood just like her. She could use her own achievement to go to the Officer Academy to hone her magic even more, but that’s that.

The world has forsaken her and she got nowhere to be, nowhere to stay, nowhere.

[“If only Onee-sama never leave, will I still be able to seek for shelter?”]

It was wistful, she knew. Even House Bartels was already been wiped at the hand of a single boy. More questions piled up, remained cold and collecting dust deep inside her heart.

**v.**

“Coco? Are you okay?”

Hapi was the one calling for her attention. She was midway on reading her scroll while listening to Hapi listlessly talking about bread and berries.

In Abyss, there wasn’t really any rule of time – it can be the day, it can be the night, she would always study until she feel tired and she won’t know exactly at what time she is sleeping. Her dear friend Hapi is always kind to bring her food when she is neck-deep with studies, also reminding her when to sleep.

Wait. At which paragraph did she strayed off to?

“Coco.”

“Is something wrong, dear Hapi?”

“You’re distracted,” the lethargic girl repeated, her eyes were judging. “Was it because Chatterbox dragged you to the sun?”

“Chatterbox? Oh, the new Professor, huh.” Constance replied while closing most of the open books in front of her. As Hapi mentioned the ‘new professor’, her attention bouncing back to her own discovery of someone. “It’s not about her, Hapi. I … well, I just reminded of my childhood days.”

Hapi rested her chin on her folded arms by the table, she looked up to the blonde, listening, “Oh? Did you find an old enemy or something? B would love to punch them if that’s the case.”

Constance shook her head. She closed her eyes, reenacting the moment she saw the long-lost older sister figure she happened to meet by the classroom area as she was about to meet up with Professor Byleth. But then, she cowered away as Mercedes caught a glimpse of her under the sun.

_Did Onee-sama feel … disgusted? Torn? Shocked?_

“Coco.”

“Mm?”

“Want some of my bread? You look like you need a lot of food.”

“Thank you, Hapi. But it’s alright, really.”

(Now that they finally meet again—what does she really, really want to say?)

**vi.**

The sun is unforgiving as always today.

That day, Constance waited in front of Blue Lion classroom, right below the shade. She already promised Mercedes she would come and talk to her longer than the previous day. Just a step, though, she would be greeted by the sun, and she might divert away once more. Not to mention, she has yet to find a courage to talk about something she wanted to convey. She could speak all day about magecraft to Mercedes (like she usually do), but-

“Sorry, did you wait for long, Constance?”

Ah, speak of the devil.

“Good day, Onee-sama.” It came almost automatically. “Will it be okay for us to take a little stroll out today?”

“But, doesn’t the sunlight brings bad memories to you?” as usual, Mercedes was quick to be concerned.

“It’s alright. It has been a while, too.”

**vii.**

Garreg Mach Monastery might be spacious, but there’s not much to see from its garden areas aside from its glorified historical building of 995 years. The gazebo would usually be packed with students, so Constance kept on walking toward the stables, where no one would come aside from knights on duty at the moment, then toward the greenhouse.

They talked over any things aimlessly, though Constance geared it more to try on catching up. Knowing about her class, knowing about her activities around the church, then to the time when Mercedes is living in a church at Faerghus.

And again, Constance was lost. Lost in a realization that she might already be an old memory to her—to someone she always looked up to during her early days, to someone whom she always think of. They lead on different lives, their paths already away from each other, but then the fate brought them to reunite.

“—Constance?”

They stopped by the silent greenhouse. There might be a roof there, but it is for the very reason to let the sun pass through. Constance looked over to seek Mercedes, who has her face painted in worry. Perhaps it is because her silence, or how she remained passive about half of their walk together.

The blonde then looked up once – it is one fine day without a rain, though it proves the opposite for her as she despise the sun and her scarred past. She, too, choose a fine sunny day for a reason, and it wasn’t because that makes her speak less ‘herself’.

Constance walked up to the bed of rose she tried to cultivate along some of her magical plants. It wasn’t that pretty like those roses grown in the old Bartels house or vibrant like ones sold by the florist in town.

“Do you remember when we were little, Onee-sama?” she began. “Emile would give me a single rose, but you will always give me a flower wreath.”

She approached Mercedes, then gently placed the stalk of rose on her open hand. Constance tried to smile, though Hapi ever said that her smile during the sunlit hours is looked gloomy.

“I don’t know if a single rose will suffice to you for now, but I promise to bring you a grand bucket someday.”

Mercedes blinked, though the corner of her lips curled in amusement as she studied the rose on her hand. Her giggle was small, a happy sound to the blonde’s ears. Constance watched as she took the stalk to her heart, a look of longing replaced her initial surprised stance.

“Still as bold as always, huh, Constance.”

Up until now, she can’t grasp what is hidden behind that smile, and what is slipped in-between those words.


End file.
